He frowns.
“Me too. The bad stuff anyway. It wasn’t horrible all the time.” I pull away when the light changes. “When it wasn’t bad, it was actually pretty normal. I got to go to school so long as I didn’t cause trouble.” I lean my head back against the headrest.
“I bet you got the best grades,” he says with a knowing grin.
“I did.” I nod. “I had to stay under the radar. No trouble. No calls home. No reason for the school to deal with my parents.”
His smile slips a little.
“It’s okay.” I pull my feet up to the seat and tuck them beneath me. The streetlights dim as we drive down the main road. “I never knew anything different. And I never thought anyone would ever care.” I touch his leg, letting my fingertips trail along the seam of his jeans. “Or that I would care about someone else.”
He glances at me, his eyes sparkling.
“We’ll make new memories. Better ones to cover up all the bad shit.” He’s not just saying words to fill the space between us. He means them. This is his vow to me.
“Are we almost there?” The streetlamps have become scarce, and we’ve entered another industrial area.
“Just a few more minutes.” He flips off the headlights and slows as he turns down a narrow road. I shouldn’t have let him take on all the responsibility of planning this all out. He needs me to be stronger. I have to start helping him more. I’m capable of more.
Unbuckling my belt, I twist around to grab the small duffle bag on the floor behind his seat, bringing it up to the front with me.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Checking supplies.” I unzip the bag and look through the tools we’ve brought with us.
“We have everything,” he assures me.
“I know. I just want to see.” I pick up my knife, a hunting knife with a thick wooden handle. The weight of the handle and blade balance perfectly, my grip steady.
“It should be just around the corner.”
How does he keep all these maps in his head? He knows exactly where he’s going. Maybe it’s from years of being a street cop before moving up to detective. I wouldn’t be able to remember all these things.
As we turn at the next intersection, a small building comes into view. Most of the other buildings are dark, but this little one has their lights on. An office building among the factories. I grip the knife harder, my heart pounds as I focus on the single car parked on the side of the building.
The truck slams to a stop, jerking me forward.
“Shit.”
My hand hits the dashboard, saving my face from the same fate. “What’s wrong?” I ask, searching his features. His hands drop into his lap and his face softens. When he looks at me, there’s despair filling his gaze.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning across the console and touching his face.
“I know that car.” His voice is a raw whisper, like he’s witnessing a ghost crawl across the hood of the truck.
I look past him, at the sedan parked just outside the side entrance of the building.
“That cop?” I ask. “From the motel?”
He swallows. “No.”
“Then who?”
“Cathy. My partner.”
Twenty-Four
KENDOLL
“Are you sure?” Dolly asks, scrambling across the cabin to see out my window. “Ken, she’s dead. You said they killed her.” She pulls back and settles back in her seat. “Maybe it’s just a car that looks like hers.”
“The plates,” I say, grabbing hold of the steering wheel again and hitting the gas.
“Where are you going?” Dolly asks in a panic. “No. Ken, we have to go back.” She twists in her seat to look out the back window as the building fades in the rearview.
“Give me a second,” I snap. She ebbs back into her seat, pulling the belt across herself to buckle back up. The tool bag has slipped to the ground at her feet, but she’s still holding the knife. In a world of chaos, a world she never asked to be part of but was forced at every turn, she holds onto the weapon as a child holds tight to their teddy bear. It’s the thing that gives her strength at the moment.
It shouldn’t be. That’s my job. I should be giving her my strength. But I have to work this information out in my mind.
Pierce at the motel.
Cathy’s car at the play space.
What the fuck is going on and why can’t I make the puzzle pieces fit? I’ve never had trouble before.
I pull the truck into the parking lot of a factory and park among dozens of other cars. The factory is in full swing. Steam billows out of the towers on the rooftop. Large windows are pushed out from the warehouse, letting in some of the night’s cool air.
“Ken?” she asks in an uncertain tone.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, clenching my eyes closed.
“Give me a sec,” I say, softening my tone. This isn’t her fault, and I don’t want her thinking she’s done anything wrong.
“Okay.” The leather crunches beneath her as she moves beside me.
Cathy’s car was left at the warehouse we arrived at together. Bossman could have taken it, given it to someone else. Another jackoff in his crew? My chest tightens at the memory of what I did to her. Her toe-curling scream as I rammed my cock into her ass.
It doesn’t matter that I was forced. It means fuck all that I had no choice. They fucking killed her anyway. And I helped them torture her.
Whoever the fuck is waiting for us in that building isn’t going to get off as easy as Bossman. They are going to fucking hurt, scream the same way Cathy did before I let them get close to death.
I throw the truck into gear and reverse out of the parking spot, stopping to turn to Dolly.
“Change of plans,” I say. She scrunches up her lips, pressing them into a determined line, and gives me a sharp nod.
The light from the factory shines through the windshield, illuminating her face. Softness and determination rarely hold hands, but with Dolly, the unexpected is the norm. Her lips lift into a gentle smile.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I hit the gas. “We’re going to wait to see who comes out of the building. When we don’t show, they’ll leave. We’ll follow them, see who’s behind all this,” I explain, though I don’t need to. Dolly trusts me.
Two figures come into view when we get closer to the building. Shadows move behind the car.
“They’re outside,” Dolly whispers excitedly. She presses her hands to the dashboard, leaning forward, the hunting knife still steady in her grip.
I slow, keeping us hidden as best as I can. The doors of the car are open. They’re leaving. We’re only ten minutes late. Impatient assholes.
“Maybe they’re scared it was a setup,” Dolly interjects my thoughts. “Maybe they’re scared of getting caught if they stay too long.”
“That could be it.” I pull the truck into a driveway two buildings down. Hopefully they aren’t paying attention to us as I make a U-turn and park parallel to the building. I can see them, but if I’m lucky, they can’t see us.
Dolly has a better view with them on her side of the truck. “They’re inside the car now. I think they’re leaving.”
I touch her knee. “We have to stay back, but we’ll follow them. Okay?”
“We’ll get them, Ken.” She tilts her head to the side. “We won’t let them get away.” She’s making her own vow to me now. And with her at my side, I know she’s right. They won’t get away.
“They’re going.” I shift gears and roll through the parking lot out onto the street. Keeping their taillights in view, I maintain a steady speed so they can’t make us out. Another car pulls out of a factory, getting between us.
“Fuck,” Dolly says.
“No. That’s good. Now they can’t see us as well. We’ll be fine,” I assure her. She doesn’t comment, just sits back against her seat and twirls her knife in her palm.
They take us back through town to the highway. It won’t be as
easy to tail them once we hit heavier traffic. Dolly’s staying quiet, probably contemplating what she’ll be able to achieve once we have them alone in a quiet space. I wish I could join her daydreams, but there’s more traffic than I anticipated on the highway. My focus has to stay on Cathy’s car.
The exit for Lake Palos comes up, and I follow them down the ramp. The streets become too familiar, but I keep up with them, watching as they make every turn, being careful not to be spotted.
“This looks familiar.” Dolly breaks the silence. “I’ve been here before.”
“When?”
“I…I don’t remember. I was out of high school though, so maybe a year ago?” She wiggles in her seat.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry.” When her memories get jumbled, she gets anxious. It’s not her fault. So much of her time has been spent in the dark over the past months, and who knows exactly how much of her life has been hidden away from her. Locked in closets, cages, rooms—she may think some of her life was normal, but I’m certain none of it was.
They turn down Cathedral Drive, and my stomach twists. We’re on Cathy’s street. My mouth dries, and I have to force myself to slow down. I’m getting too close, too eager to find out who the fuck’s in that car. Why are they going to Cathy’s house?
The speed of the truck is barely registering on the speedometer. Cathy’s car pulls into her driveway and parks outside the closed garage door. I maneuver behind a parked car and tap the brake, stopping us four houses down. The soft purr of the engine fills in the silence as I focus on the doors opening.
The passenger steps out. The garage security lights flip on, casting his face in a spotlight, and my breath sticks in my throat.
The driver side door opens. The security lighting isn’t as helpful, but it’s enough—too much.
“Who is it?” Dolly asks when I stay silent. Betrayal has my tongue tied, my vocal cords paralyzed.
“Ken.” Dolly grabs my arm. “Who is it?”
“That’s Cathy and Todd.” I turn my gaze to Dolly. “My partner and the IT guy who sent us to find you.”
Dolly’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen as the severity of the information sinks in.
“Grab the toy bag.” I turn off the ignition. “We’re going to have some fun.”
“Are you sure we should go now?” Dolly picks up the bag, zipping it closed without putting her knife away.
“What better time?” I push open my door. “We have questions. They have answers.”
Dolly hops out of the truck as I round the front and wait for her to join me. Once she’s at my side, I lace my fingers with hers.
“We do this together.” I remind her, and she squeezes my fingers softly.
“Everything is together from now on.”
“Let’s go.” I tug her forward.
The house is quiet when we walk up the drive. Lights flicker to life in the living room, the kitchen. I know the layout. I’ve been to her house for dinner.
“I don’t understand how she’s here,” Dolly whispers harshly as we approach the front door.
“We’ll find out.” I have ideas now. I reach into the back of my jeans and pull out my gun, switching off the safety. “Stay behind me. I don’t know if she’ll have her weapon on her.” If she does, I’m a quicker shot, but I don’t want Dolly in harm’s way.
“Okay.” She adjusts her grip on the bag with her left hand while raising her right hand high, ready to strike with her knife at the slightest provocation.
I think I’m falling for her—fuck that, I think I’ve already fallen. She’s ready to rush into battle at my side, with me, for me. When have I ever been so loved before?
The door could be locked, but I don’t waste time finding out. Cathy’s got a shit front door. I’ve told her before to replace it, but she never listened. I kick the door in easily, shards from the doorframe spraying the front hallway. A squeak comes from the living room.
Todd stands next to the television, remote in hand, aimed at the screen, while Cathy sits on the couch. Color drains from her cheeks as her gaze lands on me.
“Shut the door, Dolly,” I instruct, aiming my gun at Cathy while stepping into the single-level ranch. They have nowhere to run that a bullet won’t reach before they get anywhere.
“Brian,” Cathy exhales my name. “Thank fuck.” She stands up from the couch, her hands splayed out in front of her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She glances at Todd, frozen at the television set. “We all have.”
“Looking for me?” I shoot the question at her. “How are you even alive?” Images flash. Blood everywhere. Pooling. I slipped in it. Fell into the puddle of her blood.
She flickers her gaze to Dolly, who drops the toys at my feet.
“I…uh…” She’s preoccupied with Dolly moving toward her, walking around the end table. A few more steps and she’s there.
“Dolly, stay still,” I order her. We can’t start yet, but Dolly knows Cathy betrayed me. She won’t let that shit go undealt with.
“She doesn’t look hurt,” Dolly states blandly. She turns her head one way, then the other, inspecting how unhurt Cathy actually is.
“It’s been over a month—” Cathy starts, but Dolly jerks forward with her knife at the ready, sending Cathy into silence and stumbling back a step.
“I doubt even a month would heal the head wound you supposedly had,” I bite out, moving my aim to Todd. “Don’t fucking move.”
Todd’s jaw clenches, and he gives a little nod. Fucking pussy.
Cathy drops her hands to her sides, shaking her head. “You were really never too detail orientated, were you?” she asks, her tone souring, hardening.
“Don’t check the age of the girl at the bar—end up fucking your career.” She raises her brows. “Don’t bother to check if I was actually shot before blubbering about it.”
I blink faster, trying to sort through the memories. So many fucking drugs were racing through my veins.
“Didn’t notice the bag of blood hanging from the table beside me while you were shoving your fucking cock in my ass?” she taunts.
“Bag of blood?” I search the scene in my mind. She was naked, beaten, bent and tied over the table. Until she lifted her head to look at me, I couldn’t see her. I never saw the other side of the table.
“It wasn’t too hard to convince you, I’ll be honest. You were drugged pretty heavily. Not that it stopped your cock from getting hard.” She lifted her shoulders.
Dolly inches forward, but Cathy’s focus remains on me.
“You took me there on purpose.” Captain Obvious has taken control of my brain. How do you sort between what’s a lie and what’s real when there isn’t time?
“Brian, I think we should just chill out,” Todd says from behind Cathy.
“I think you should shut the fuck up,” Dolly yells at him.
“You’re Queenhearts.” I get my mind back on track. I’ll work through her actions later. Right now, we have to press forward. We need answers, we need to keep going, we need to make all of this shit right.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t think you had it in you. What you did with Morty and Jimmy,” she says. “But I think I know why.” She turns to look at Dolly. “Abigail.”
Dolly freezes. Her jaw tightens while her lips curl inward.
“My name is Dolly.” She lunges for Cathy, but Cathy’s ready for her. She easily blocks Dolly and takes her down to the floor.
I jump over the couch between us, but I’m not needed. Dolly’s on the floor. She swipes her knife, cutting Cathy’s Achilles tendon. Cathy screams and stumbles down beside Dolly.
“No. Wait.” I grab Dolly’s wrist just as she aims to plunge her knife into Cathy. “Not yet.” This is to be savored, not devoured. Control needs to be taken back.
I look over at Todd, aiming my gun at him. “Don’t fucking move.”
“I…fuck...Brian…I…” he stammers, glancing toward the front door. I’m not taking chances.
T
wo shots, one to each of his knees, takes him down to the floor, howling like the bleeding pig he is.
“Fuck!” Cathy tries to scramble up, to crawl away, but Dolly yanks out of my grip and pins her to the ground.
“We need to get them somewhere we can work.” I point the gun at Todd again. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll cut out your fucking vocal cords.”
Tears streak his pale face. He nods and holds up one hand covered in his own blood. “Okay. Okay!”
“Take out her other leg. I don’t want her to be able to move,” I instruct Dolly as I step over Cathy’s huddled body and head toward the kitchen. The door to her basement is there, leading down to the last place Cathy will take a breath.
I open the door to the basement and flick on the light.
“No!” Cathy’s protest is replaced with a curling scream. The last time I heard the sound, my heart shattered. This time, my heart warms.
Twenty-Five
DOLLY
“We’re all set.” Ken stands back from the camera he’s hooked up in Cathy’s basement. She had all the equipment already. Ken’s disappointment in her grows deeper by the moment.
Her basement isn’t very different than the playroom Ken and I knew. There’s a cross, which we’ve secured Cathy to, a table with straps built into it, and a tool chest in the corner. She has her own torture chamber here, down to the camera equipment to capture it all.
“It’s not online, but that’s good. We’ll run it later, once we’re away from here,” Ken explains. He’s already told me this, but I’m not going to correct him. There’s a lot for him to process here.
His partner betrayed him. Sent him to the playhouse. Spent money to see him tortured for her own amusement.
I check the ties on Cathy’s arms. She’s mumbling behind the cloth gag in her mouth. Tears run down her cheeks. We have her on the cross, standing on her feet. With her cut tendons, it probably hurts like a bitch.
I pat her cheek. “Doing okay?” I ask sweetly. She blinks several times and starts muttering again. “Can’t understand you, sorry.” I tap my finger against the gag. She pulls on her restraints, but Ken has her tied tight. She’s not going anywhere.
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